Real Blue Flu
by BlueBlood82
Summary: During an NYPD "Blue Flu", Jamie comes down with the real thing. JAMKO


**Just a short hurt comfort about our favorite partners. Hope you enjoy it.**

The phones in the 12th precinct were ringing off the hook. The latest in the mayor's tax cut had hit the police budget hard resulting in a harsh union backlash. Officers in all five boroughs were calling in sick with "flu like" symptoms. As the PC's son, Jamie was taking a lot of heat, being ragged on that his father was selling the department out with a wage freeze. He didn't feel much like defending himself.

In fact, Jamie couldn't recall feeling worse in his life. His head ached, his throat hurt and he was dizzy. He was very, very dizzy. The last time the earth moved this much under his feet had been when he accidently got high while some friends hot boxed in his car in college.

Eddie knocked on the men's locker room door, "So because of this sick out, we are on sixteen hours on, eight off," Eddie sighed. "There goes my date for tomorrow night."

Jamie coughed, "Yeah, well, I'm getting the short end of the stick because of it. What they don't know is that dad talked them out of a wage roll back and benefits cut."

"It's not your fault, don't listen to them. Let's go get some wings and beers, shake off their stupidity and get some rest for tomorrow." Eddie stepped into the locker room. "Wow, Jamie you look a little rough."

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Beer and food sounds pretty good," he replied with a smile tying his sneakers.

Jamie rose slowly and stretched his sore muscles. It took a minute for him to get his legs under him, and then he lifted his duffel and put on his hoodie.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Eddie asked. "Are you getting sick?"

"Even if I am I can't afford to be with more than half the force on a sick out," Jamie sighed. "Let's go."

They met at the bar, having each taken their own cars. Jamie got his stout and Eddie tried a craft beer that tasted of cinnamon and cherries. She liked it. They sat there in the back, the bar was crowded with officers in spite of the sick out. "They look really sick to me," Eddie rolled her eyes. "It's the city, not your dad and it's illegal for police officers to strike."

Jamie took a sip of his beer and winced. His ears were full and his throat was on fire, "Can we get the mild wings tonight Eddie?" he asked thinking of the buffalo sauce burning his throat.

"Sure, we can just get burgers if you'd prefer," Eddie offered.

"No, wings is what I am craving," Jamie replied. Not to mention the only thing he could taste.

They ordered a half bucket and split it, talking and laughing together. An hour later they both headed for home. Jamie took some cold medicine and crawled into his bed. He hoped with a good night sleep he'd feel better.

Jamie dropped off the minute his head hit the pillow and he didn't wake up at all until his alarm went off. He sat up and felt like he was being stabbed through the skull. The sunlight pouring into the room was too much for his eyes to handle. He shut the blinds and forced his aching body into the shower. He knew he was sick, he'd felt like this before, but there was no way he could, as the PC's son, let alone a responsible officer could call out sick during on the most prolific blue flu outbreaks the NYPD had ever seen. He had to make it to work today, if he could survive today, the next day would get easier and the day after that easier still. He dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and his NYPD hoodie taking his uniform on a hanger and getting into his car.

Jamie saw Eddie pouring coffee in the break room. She smiled at him and handed him a cup of tea, "It's honey lemon, I knew last night you were getting a bad cold, it might help soothe your throat."

She knew him so well, he couldn't hide from her. She brushed his forehead, "You have a fever. You should be at home in bed."

"Eddie you know we can't do that, I can't do that," he sighed. "Worst sick out in history and the PC's own kid calls out. Even though it could be legit how does it play? I took some cold medicine, you drive today, I'll be fine."

Eddie let it go, she knew how protective Jamie was of his family's reputation. She promised herself to take good care of him and watch his back more than ever.

It seemed to both Jamie and Eddie, the criminals in New York were working overtime, taking advantage of the decreased police presence. By the twelfth hour, even Eddie was drained, she couldn't imagine how Jamie felt. Somehow they managed to make it through the shift. Eddie offered to take Jamie to the diner to get some food but he begged off wanting to go home to his bed and his cold medication.

Jamie drove through the crowded New York streets, lights blinding his eyes. He turned his car reflexively towards home, right, right, left, straight, right, left, fork...He has a long way to go and he felt so sick and shaky. He pulled up outside Eddie's apartment, it was much closer and it was safe. He pulled over and parked in the only empty space in front of her building. He tried to get out of the car but as he did so, the dizziness and heat engulfed him.

Eddie had just sunk into the warm, scented bath water when she heard a loud incredible bleeping sound coming from outside her window. Damned neighbor and her bloody stuck horn, she murmured and rose out of the water to close the window and drown out the noise. Then she saw it, Jamie's car was just outside her apartment that was where the noise was coming from. He must be hurt or much sicker to just sit in the car like that unmoving while his horn blared endlessly.

Eddie disregarded her state of undress and hurried out to Jamie's car. She pushed through the thick crowds that had gathered around the car identifying herself, "Officer Janko, NYPD. Move aside, please."

Eddie reached Jamie's side and knocked on the window trying to get Jamie's attention, "Jamie. Jamie, open the door, please. Jamie, it's Eddie. I'm going to help you, but you have to open the door."

Jamie moaned a bit at the voice penetrating his pounding head. It sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't quite make it out over the blaring of the horn.

He shifted his weight to angle his head toward the voice calling him "Jamie! Jamie, it's Eddie. Please open the door and let me help you. Jamie, can you hear me?"

Her name penetrated first. Eddie. He'd come here because he knew she'd help him, but why was she...in a moment of lucidity it dawned on him, his door was locked.

With shaky hands he reached over and unlocked his car door with the pin. That effort sapped his limited strength and he slumped against the seat, finally getting his weight off the horn, ceasing its irritating blare.

Eddie sighed with relief when she heard the pop of the door lock and she moved quickly to open it. Her eyes assessed him quickly; closed eyes, perspiring, chills, pale skin, no blood apparent, he didn't appear to be injured but she didn't know. Eddie gently reached out and touched his forehead. He was burning up with fever and was moaning and mumbling incoherently.

"Jamie, open your eyes and look at me. It's Eddie. I'm going to help you. Can you open your eyes?"

Her touch was cool against his hot skin, and her voice was sweetly soft next to his ear as instructed him to look at her. Slowly, bracing himself for the pain the street lamps would cause his aching head, he opened his eyes.

"Hi," Eddie whispered, "Are you all right? Are you hurt?" She asked, trying to assess his condition.

Jamie tried to shake his head, but ended up moaning instead. His rasped, "Not hurt."

"Okay, it's all right," she whispered gently. "You have to get out of the car. Get out of the car and you can lie down. I have a nice warm bed upstairs, but you have to help me."

Jamie nodded again, trying to steel himself against the chills wracking his body. Eddie unfastened his seatbelt for him and helped him turn and get his legs out of the car. His body was shaking with cold as he tried to get up, and his legs seemed to insist on disobeying his brains commands to move.

"Jamie, you're sick. You need to lie down. I can't move you by myself. Please try and walk."

"Can't," Jamie rasped on his dry, sore throat, "Dizzy."

"Jamie, you have to try. I won't let you fall."

Somehow, Eddie managed to get Jamie standing in the semi upright position mostly under her own steam. She draped an arm around his waist and he caught on and placed a heavy arm around her shoulders. Eddie kicked the car door closed with her foot and decided that she'd come back a secure it later after Jamie was settled in bed. That was the only place for him in this condition.

It took nearly half an hour for Eddie to get Jamie up to her apartment. He was exhausted and rapidly weakening from his fever. When she finally got the door of her apartment opened he collapsed heavily into the easy chair beside the door.

"No, no, Jamie," Eddie admonished lightly as if speaking to a child. "You need to lie down and rest."

"No," Jamie mumbled, "Sleep."

"Yes. That's right. You can sleep as soon as you get to my room. Come on, we're almost there."

Jamie leaned on Eddie again, but as they passed the next chair, he immediately tried to sit down again just wanting to get his weight off his aching, unsteady legs.

"No, Jamie. Keep walking. Don't sit. I want you to lie down. You're sick."

Eddie practically dragged Jamie the last few steps to her room and let him collapse onto the bed. He was fully clothed in his requisite off duty uniform, tight jeans, tee shirt, and NYPD hoodie. If he was to be comfortable and she was to treat his fever, she'd have to get him out of the clothing.

For his part Jamie was unconscious on the bed, having used the last of his strength to walk to Eddie's bedroom. He'd be useless to her in helping him to undress.

First, she angled his tall, lean form upward pulling him close enough so that his head rested against her chest. Holding him upright with her left hand, she worked his hoodie off his shoulders and over his head and then lay him back down gently on the bed.

She studied his shirt, the way he filled it out, and how nice it looked on him, then gently began to work it off of him careful not to brush up against his more private body parts as she untucked the shirt from his pants and repeated the same process of lifting his body and sliding the shirt off. She was astonished to find he wore no undershirt when the smooth, sleek, muscled chest appeared before her eyes.

Next Eddie realized she'd have to remove Jamie's pants. She studied him lying on the bed, completely devoid of any rational thought of his own and considered what his reaction to finding himself very close to naked in his partner's bed.

Jamie moaned in his sleep, and started to shake. Eddie reached into the bedside drawer and removed the thermometer she'd bought. She quickly took his temperature and didn't like the result, nearly 103, she decided that his health was more important than his modesty or pride and quickly began the task of removing his belt and pants.

When she finished, she carefully hung the clothing behind her bathroom door and left his shoes with the socks tucked inside outside the bedroom door. Now that she had completed one task, it was time to

begin another.

Eddie's first concern was his fever. She'd checked his body over thoroughly while she was undressing him and found no injuries other than a dozen or so healed scars from various wounds she assumed he

received in his earlier life rough housing with his brothers or boxing in the ring. For now, she'd treat his fever and question him about other symptoms when he had the strength and the mental capacity to answer her.

She filled a buckey with cold water and brought it back to Jamie. She covered him with the sheet up to his trim waist and began to soak the cloths she had brought in the cool water. Jamie bucked and began to shiver when she placed the cool clothes to his hot skin and he tossed restlessly against the sheets.

"No, cold," he mumbled in his sleep, trying to force the cloth off his forehead with a few violent shakes and tosses.

"Ssh," Eddie soothed, "No, Jamie, you have to leave the cloth on. I have to get your temperature down. You're really sick."

"No," he protested again, his usually strong comforting voice so weak it scared her. "Have to get to work, can't…" He gasped for air.

"Don't worry, Jamie. It can all keep. You have to get well before you can worry about tending to anything else. Go to sleep, I'll take care of you."

Jamie heard her words and he heard his own weak voice protesting against her instructions. He had get home, he had to be at roll call in the morning. He had to make Eddie understand that; he had to be sick.

"Eddie," he rasped on his raw throat. "Gonna be sick."

Eddie had been prepared for this eventuality and had a plastic basin sitting at her feet. If Jamie had the flu as she suspected, he'd have all of the symptoms, including nausea and vomiting.

"Okay, Jamie. It's okay," Eddie assured softly, holding the pail under his mouth, gently massaging his back as he expelled his day's food consumption into the pail.

Eddie realized when he'd finished that that had not been much and began to worry that between his fever and vomiting that he'd become dehydrated. She'd have to force him to drink as much water as she could even if she just wound up cleaning it back out again.

Jamie appeared to have stopped fighting the compresses and was now relaxing into sleep. When Eddie removed the cloth from his forehead to replace it with a cooler one, his hand caught her wrist.

"Eddie, you shouldn't be doing this," he whispered opening his baby blue fever glazed eyes, "You could catch it."

"I know that, Jamie. But you need help and I can help you. Now just lay back and rest. I'm just going to get you some water. Do you think you could take some soup?"

"Feed a cold, starve a fever, Eddie," he replied.

"Old wives' tale, Jamie," she replied, "If you don't eat you could end up in the hospital. How about a little bit of broth?"

"Maybe in a bit," he replied, falling back into the pillow and releasing her hand. Eddie smiled and settled Jamie's hand across his chest, before turning to go to the kitchen and get him some water to drink.

Eddie spent the next few hours sitting at Jamie's bedside carefully tending to his needs. The most prominent symptom was still his fever, but Eddie did not feel it prudent to give him Tylenol with his stomach so upset.

He seemed to sleep peacefully so Eddie rose to stretch and check the time, just before three in the morning. She came back with a cup of tea for herself and another cup of water for Jamie. His fever had risen in spite of her efforts with the compresses, so she had to step it up a notch. She had to somehow force a Tylenol into him and pray it ran its course before he expelled it. She'd also had to begin bathing his entire body in cold cloths. Two more hours, she reasoned. If he wasn't doing better in two more hours, if she could not get his temperature down, she'd called for an ambulance and face the repercussions later.

Jamie was murmuring incoherently, crying out when Eddie returned. He seemed to be reliving something or dreaming of something, "No!" he cried out, "Don't do this to him. He's alive, damn you," was all she could make out of his senseless rambling.

"Jamie," she whispered, settling on the double bed beside him, "Jamie, it's all right. I've got you. I'm going to take care of you."

"He's not dead!" he protested, "He can't be dead. He's still breathing!"

Eddie had no idea what was haunting Jamie. From what he had told her, he deeply mourned for his brother Joe and had lost a partner in the line of duty. He appeared to be reliving the moment at a funeral when you see the body and your eyes trick you into believing they chest is still rising and falling in the same rhythm as your own. She didn't know for sure, all she knew was that she had to calm his violent ravings before the physical exertion made his already high fever even higher.

Throwing modesty and caution to the wind, Eddie pulled the blankets off Jamie's body, exposing his entire form to her view. Soaking three long towels in the ice cold water, she placed one on his

chest and the other two around his long muscled legs. Her eyes scanned his body as she worked, noticing his muscles, his skin, everything that made him Jamie.

Once she's secured the cloths on his body she climbed on the bed next to him and held his now shivering body in her arms, pulling his head to her breast as he cried out in terror. Perhaps she could calm him down if she communicated to him in the state he was in now, if she could assure him that he was not alone.

"Jamie, I'm here now. Can you hear me? You are going to be all right. I'm going to help you. If you can hear me and you can open your eyes, open them for me, please."

Jamie could feel the pain in his chest begin to subside when the owner of the soft angelic voice placed the cool water on his burning body. She would help him, she would understand.

She was asking him something, she wanted him to do something for her. Open his eyes. That was the least he could do.

Eddie smiled, tears starting to work her way down her cheeks when she saw Jamie's eyes open.

"Jamie? Jamie? It's Eddie. Do you recognize me?" she asked, softly, smoothing her hand over his fiery brow.

"Where is everyone? Joe's being buried today, they should be here. They should be here."

She was right. He was flashing back to his brother's funeral. "You're home, Jamie. It's all over now, you are home in bed and I'm here with you. I am here with you and it's going to be all right." Eddie kissed his hand. "Tell me how you feel?"

"I don't feel…wait, pain, my stomach. What's happened to me?" Jamie mumbled still in his disoriented state, his rational mind destroyed by fever.

"You've been sick," she whispered gently. "Can you look at me? Do you know who I am? Do you know my name?"

Eddie wasn't sure what to do. What would be better for him, to try and convince him that he was in her bedroom suffering from flu like ailment, or would it be better to play into his delirium and let him think that he was here resting after his beloved brother's funeral?

"Yes," he groaned, "you told me. It's Eddie. Eddie, beautiful. Like you, very beautiful," he whispered, reaching up one hand to caress her cheek.

"That's right," she whispered, "I'm Eddie. And I'm going to help you. I know you feel so awful now but it will get better I promise."

"I miss him, I miss him so much. It hurts so much…" He slurred and tossed his head back and forth. "He was breathing, they…I saw it. I have to stop them, we have to stop them Eddie," Jamie grunted, rolling

out of the bed trying to get up.

"Oh, no, Jamie. Lie back down. You are too weak to be up and about yet," Eddie whispered softly lying him down on the bed, her slight weight on top of him.

"I have to stop them, Eddie. I have to stop them from hurting Joe," he moaned, dropping back against the pillows even as he protested.

"It's all right, Jamie. I'm here with you. Joe is in Heaven with your Mom. Joe is safe, Jamie. He's safe now and he's watching you. Just relax," she whispered as she felt the struggles of Jamie's body begin to cease as he fell once again into sleep.

Eddie sighed with relief to notice that Jamie was finally asleep. His fever was still high, but at least when he woke she had hope he'd be back in his own time and not haunted with the memories of what

proved to me a wretched and frightening experience.

Maintaining his temperature was rapidly becoming her first priority, she would have to get him to a hospital where they had medicines more sophisticated than her aspirin. He was moaning in his sleep tossing his head, calling her name, threatening some unknown force not to hurt her, that he'd do anything.

Eddie had to calm him, let him know she was all right, that she felt and realized every sacrifice he'd made, every pain he'd suffered. She had to reach him on the most basic level, reach him in this

delirious state, so she did the only thing she knew to do, she climbed under the blankets with him and clutched his shivering form to her breast.

Jamie seemed to calm a bit with his fiery cheek pillowed against the soft flesh of Eddie's bosom, his moaning stopped and fierce chills seemed to set in. Eddie pressed her lips near his ear, impulsively

kissing the lobe before whispering, "I'm safe, Jamie. I'm safe. And so are you. I'm here with you and you'll keep me safe, we'll keep each other safe, from now on. You just have to sleep and get well,

all right? Then I promise, no more pain, no more sacrifices, I'll do anything Jamie, just rest."

"I'm sorry, Eddie," he murmured in a moment of lucidity, "It's my fault they have you. My fault..."

She knew he was remembering her being kidnapped a few months back. "Ssh," she whispered, "It's nobody's fault. Not yours, especially not yours. You helped me get out of there. I was so scared but you came like I knew you would. I am here now with you, you hold on now. You have to get your rest and you'll see. I'm never going to let you get hurt again. I'll keep you warm and safe, I'll always be here."

"Safe..." he gasped, his breathing becoming shallow and raspy, worrying Eddie even more. He began gasping desperately for breath and coughing hard against Eddie's body.

Eddie reached behind Jamie and secured a firm pillow behind his back, rubbing in soothing circles until his coughs subsided.

Eddie didn't know how many hours she laid by Jamie's side. When the alarm went off she shut it and called Renzulli. "I can't Sarge," Eddie told him. "Jamie is so sick, not some stupid blue flu, he's got a 103 fever. He's been delirious. I can't leave him until I reach someone and even then he's sleeping finally."

Renzulli sighed, "You get in here tomorrow Janko, if Reagan is too sick then he is too sick but tomorrow you find another Reagan to play nursemaid."

Eddie thanked the Sergeant and hung up. She showered then made some hot tea for Jamie. She forced the tea down and let him sleep some more while she watched the TV on mute in the living room. When she returned and hour later a pair of lucid if not tired blue eyes met hers, "Hey," he rasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I happen to live here. You on the other hand passed out in your car and I had to drag your butt up here. You have been really sick." Eddie sat down, "Here, take as much tea as you can."

Jamie sipped it, "Vanilla cinnamon," he sighed. "My brother Joe loved this tea. My mom always made it when we were sick."

Eddie sat down on the bed, "You must miss them a lot."

Jamie nodded, "I had dreams of Joe last night. I hope I didn't keep you up, I'll go home…"

"No, you will rest here in that bed, until you are strong enough. You scared me so badly Jamie. I didn't know if I could get your temperature down…"

Jamie began to cough again, his body ached as the spasms ran through him. Eddie rubbed his back letting him lean against her. "Thanks…" Jamie wheezed. "Thanks for everything. I remember hearing you last night, helping me. You're all right, partner."

Eddie smiled, "You're not so bad yourself. Get your rest, I'll fix you some soup."

She smiled over her shoulder as she saw Jamie's eyes close. She loved him, she knew it the day he stopped Ricky Salazar from attacking the scum that killed his partner that she loved him. Did he love her? Only time would tell, but for now she would be his partner and his friend until she knew for sure if her feelings would, one day, be returned.


End file.
